Imagine each of the bodies used to be a living, breathing human. Each soldier there had a childhood, memories, they had felt things and smelled things, and seen things.

Everything in these soldier’s lives led up to their deaths. Their existence could be neatly summed up with an age and a name, and forgotten so easily, as if they had never existed or even mattered in the first place. They knew serving carried risk of harm to life and limb, they weighed the consequences and their incredible bravery led them into battle, but they could never know the finality of death, that the whole of their physical and mental being would cease as a function. They may have lay awake at night in fear of meeting their maker, or had reservations as they first signed their name on the piece of paper that made them a soldier, but none of them knew this was their fate. How could they?

Just recently they would have been smiling, and jovial. They would have been conversing and emoting and looking in one another’s eyes to derive meaning from visual and auditory cues. Not so long ago they would have been exquisite examples of a living, breathing organism. But as the synapses in their brain shut down, and the activity between neurons turns to excess heat instead of prolonging sustained consciousness, they are nothing more then shells of living creatures.

If you’ve seen someone die, you know it can happen quickly, and it’s hard to comprehend the full implication of a life coming to an end. From the observer’s point of view its just another event, it may bring on emotions and feelings, but as far as the universe is concerned its just energy moving around.

We may be born to die, and that’s depressing as hell, but each one of us is a unique tapestry of history, memories and personalities, and as long as we are alive we continue growing with complexity and weaving ourselves further into the shared history of our earth, our galaxy, our sun, and everything that had a part in making us. That being said, remember that each one of the soldiers strewn about the beach by the careless throws of death and pushed up the sand by the unforgiving current was a truly irreparable loss. Remember that no one person’s life is worth more then another, and that the loss of anyone, anywhere, for any reason is a tragedy and we must all share in the pain.

Just as a strong river current will push objects downstream unless they actively swim against it, societal currents will do the same. As a result, part of cultivating manhood in our day is understanding where society pushes against and undermines masculine virtues, and then actively swimming against those currents. Some of the push against masculinity is intentional. Certain types of feminists consider the masculine virtues “toxic”, so they condemn men who exhibit those virtues and they make a concerted effort to promote an alternate masculinity that encourages men to think and act like women.

Other societal currents that push against masculine virtues are unintentional, but rather are a byproduct of technological developments and the advancement of civilization. These developments allow men to survive without developing their masculinity and without having any connection to other men whatsoever. Professional police and military allow men to survive without being strong and courageous. Technology allows them to live isolated lives where their lack of strength, courage, or productivity will not result in being shamed, instructed, criticized, or kicked out of the tribe.

When you combine a culture that tells men that the traditional masculinity is toxic with technology that allows them to easily choose the easy and comfortable life, the result is that, on a large scale, men often simply stop trying to be men. Manhood is hard. It involves embracing a strenuous life. It involves taking responsibility for yourself and those around you. It requires strength. It requires courage. It requires improvement throughout life. It requires struggle. It requires fortitude. It requires tenacity. It requires sacrifice. It requires that status be earned, not given.

Many males recoil at this hard road. Their weaker selves yearn for an easier path. A path of comfort. A path of self-indulgence. A path without status. A path without testing. A path without responsibility. That path exists, and many voices in our society implore men to choose it. Those voices give aid and comfort to those who are unwilling to walk the hard path of manhood. Men are told that they don’t need to take the hard road.